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Heart Surgeon


The barmaid pulls pints
Little does she know
She pulls out a heart
From each young man

She will flirt with them
They will bumble home
And never tell their wives
Of their hidden desires

Their's is hunt-lust
Something purely heartless
Like a jackal laughing
At the famine of it all

She is their sustenance
When she smiles at them
That is the first warmth
They've felt all week

Each man stares into his glass
The bell at last orders
Rings like the parting shot
Of lengthening time

One whispers her name
"Madonna, Sweet Mary"
Another hugs his beery breath
As if the traitor's kiss


© David Incoll 2001


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Copyright by David Incoll 2001